The Umbra


The neem tree,
beside the bedroom,
ever agog in spirit,
appears deolate.

I spot the minimal,
only the rustle
of the leaves
keep her going.

The sparrows have
disappeared. The empty
nests stare. The lizards
go up and down.

Walking back to the bed.
with a heavy heart, hear
a snap a break and a crash
with a thump.

It could be from within,
might from without.
I yearn for the company
of the sparrows.

I remain, how long,
Startled, I rise
The incessant chatter
reverberates.

Rhythmic amd mellifluous.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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